Possession
by Vanilla Cherries
Summary: Because even the kindest can turn scared and possessive. One shot, one sided Brooklyn x Max


(Hm. This has been an idea for a while now, and I've gone as far as messing with it in my head at school though it finally took its turn on paper.

**Disclaimer: **Do you see Brooklyn and Raul in all seasons of Beyblade? Do you see Ozuma in all seasons? Do you see signs poking fun at the people with eyebrow issues? Do you see bananas attacking Ming-Ming? Do you see Mystel and Brooklyn hooking up? Do you see Ozuma and Tyson getting together? Do you see Hilary being shot? No? Then I obviously don't own Beyblade.)

Arms hidden by a white sleeved jacket wrapped possessively over the torso ofthe smaller male who rested in the taller's lap, the blond's (the shorter) back pressed against the chest of the ginger haired youth.

"You're mine… always andforever," whispered the taller, gently placing his head on the blond's shoulder and nuzzling his skull next to the others.

This wasn't Brooklyn. This wasn't the Brooklyn he knew and had known. This was just a copy… another image brought to life. But this wasn't Brooklyn. Max knew that too well that this was just a replica… this couldn't be Brooklyn. It couldn't be.

"I don't want you to leave anyways," continued the fifteen year old, his arms wrapping even more protectively around his "friend's" chest. He loosened only slightly as Max tensed, a faint shudder sliding along his skin.

Where had the Brooklyn he'd once known gone? Where had the tree hugging,kind and politebeyblader gone? Now there was this person claiming him, Max, as his own. The thought aloud his thin body to tremble. Or was that the feeling of this imposter's warm breath against his sensitive neck? Perhaps it was both.

"Please don't go… just please don't go," continued the teen, this imposter, this _replica_. Max only let a small whimper escape his throat, his muscles tensing even more.

This _wasn't_ Brooklyn, this couldn't be. The blond refused to accept this… this imposter. That was who this person was. If this person was even a person. But whoever he was, he wasn't Brooklyn.

"I… I won't go," the smaller whispered, arching his neck just slightly, tears threatening to spill from his eyes and run down his cheeks. He was afraid. Afraid of this imitation, afraid of what it could do, what it _might_ do. "I… I promise," he whispered, too frightened to even attempt to escape. His breath caught in his throat as a gentle kiss was planted on his neck, tongue caressing his skin as if it were a fragile egg.

Maybe this was Brooklyn… maybe this imposter was the real one. Maybe this real one was just insecure and frightened at this moment and just needed someone to love him and hold him and whisper to him that everything was all right.

"Promise? You honestly do?" the ginger haired youth cooed after allowing his lips to part from the skin on Max, but the moment all the words had escaped, he placed his mouth back on Max's skin, nibbling gently before pulling away once again, this time resting his head next to the blond's own.

The younger fifteen year old forced himself to nod just slightly. "Y-yeah… of course I do, Brooklyn," he murmured, longing to curl up under the blankets of his bed and fall into a sleep or wake up from this nightmare. This tender, yet cruel nightmare. Or a harsh and cruel dream.

"No… you don't… but I won't let you go… then you can't break the promise," the teal eyed youth mumbled, eyes closing as he clutched tighter at Max. _His_ Max. No one else's but _his_.

No, this wasn't Brooklyn. How could he even think this creature was? Max laughed silently to himself at how he could even suppose something as unrealistic as that.

"But… but what about my friends?" whimpered the blond boy, his eyes widening just slightly at the thought of never seeing Tyson, Rei, Kai, Kenny, even _Hilary_ again and the sudden picture made him close his eyes tightly, a single tear dripping from this face and sliding down his cheek, a trail of liquid staining his face.

"You don't need them, Max…"

Brooklyn, no, this pretender, was wrong. He did need them. He needed Tyson to laugh with, Rei to beyblade with, Kai to force him to train, Kenny to nag and be Kenny, and Hilary to just be… Hilary.

"Please don't cry…"

Don't cry? Max tensed, but not out of fear, out of anger. How could he not cry? This monster claimed the blond like he were but a soda or a house, or some sort of inanimate object. How could he not cry?

His body went rigid as he felt something soft, moist, slide along where the tear was, and his eyes opened, wide, as he stared blankly.

This wasn't Brooklyn… it couldn't be.

"Why…?"

Arms tensed around his torso, and Max shut his eyes, wishing he'd never said anything.

"Why what?"

But the words were soft, and Max allowed himself to relax if just a bit.

"Why a-are you doing this? You can hang out with u-us anytime you want…"

It was only a few seconds before the blond received even a gesture to answer, and he opened his eyes again as he felt this imposter's arms release their grip and fall to their side, the blond shoved off the teal eyed teen's lap and he knew Brooklyn was standing, not looking down.

Slowly, uncertain, Max stood to his feet, edging away, watching Brooklyn for any sign of movement. Realizing the older was letting him go, he backed to the door, hands feeling for the handle and grasping it and he watched the imposter in fear, slipping out.

Five words rang through his ears and he knew this was Brooklyn, that that had _been_ Brooklyn the whole time, and a twinge of pain shot throughout his heart. But he didn't turn back, he was afraid to.

"Because I only want loved."


End file.
